Healing is meant to hurt,
But no one tells us so
It is the sting of metamorphosis
The collapsing grief of letting go
As our hearts begin to remember
The bittersweet of our history
When we see the whole perspective
Of life, of loss, of synchronicity.
It will not last forever, dear soul,
Though at present all is lonely and cold
No matter how bitter the ache
Or how far away we feel from home,
There is relief in each painful release
Light reflecting in the tears that fall
When we reach the other side of grief
Where all is finally still and calm.
The Therapy of Words 